Jungle Hunt Read online

  “Receive anything from work?” Morgan stared directly at him.

  “Yeah, as a matter of fact I did. They let me know that you and I seem to be working on the same side, if for different masters.”

  Morgan nodded. “Yeah, that doesn’t surprise me. You came up just like your jacket said you would, but in the village you were pure operative. Don’t worry—your secret is safe with me. I’d say the next step is to pool our resources, except we should probably watch out for Nancy Drew there.”

  Bolan glanced over his shoulder at her hut. “Agreed. I think she could use a good night’s sleep after this, so let’s make sure she gets it. Etienne, too—I think the scene this afternoon kind of messed him up.”

  Morgan nodded. “And afterward, you and I can trade stories around the campfire.”

  15

  Alec Hachtman sat very still in his tent, trying to calm the butterflies in his stomach as he made sure no beads of sweat were visible on his face.

  He was in front of his laptop, connected by satellite video link with the board of directors of Paracor, who were pressing him on how the project was going and when they would be able to announce that the area was open to surveyors. Among the attendees was his superior, Mr. Ravidos, as well as a local representative for the company, Alfredo Roldos, a smooth-talking Ecuadorian in a suit that Hachtman bet cost more than he made in a month.

  Hachtman was no stranger to high-pressure presentations. However, this one—which could make or break his career with the company—had been thrown together in the last ninety minutes to give to the entire board. It gave new meaning to the expression “thrown into the shark tank.”

  “In summary, gentleman, we are proceeding on schedule and expect to have the entire area cleared out according to the timetable that you can see on your monitors.”

  “This is very good news, indeed, Mr. Hachtman,” Mr. Ravidos said. “Are there any follow-up questions, gentlemen?”

  “I got one for your fair-haired wonder boy.” The speaker was an older man with piercing, light blue eyes. He was one of the new guard on the board, named Mr. Seiver. Not much scared Hachtman, but this man did. “Something that’s been bugging me ever since the board approved this harebrained scheme. We pay to clear the rights to this tract of land, send good men down there to clean the place out for the oil companies. But what if there isn’t any oil in the ground? Did we just waste several million dollars for nothing?”

  Hachtman restrained his smile—the old man had just played right into his hands. “An excellent question, sir. You’ve all seen the preliminary reports filed on the area that indicate trillions of barrels of oil down here. The international companies will be doing whatever they have to, to get at it, and we’ll be here to make sure that their multibillion-dollar investments are safe and sound—”

  Hachtman held up his hand to forestall Mr. Seiver’s protest. “And in the unlikely event that the oil here is less than predicted, or it isn’t cost-effective to recover, we have already identified logging and mining companies that will be falling over themselves to reap the unspoiled bounty down here. Mr. Ravidos will bring up the report on the alternate clients from around the world. As you can see, we already have timber companies submitting early bids to clear-cut the forest so the oil companies can set up their operations, thereby profiting twice off the same tracts of land. I can assure you, gentlemen, that our investment here will pay off handsomely, no matter whom we lease the mineral or logging rights to.”

  The reaction from the board in general seemed to be positive, with most of the members nodding and muttering to each other. Mr. Ravidos caught Hachtman’s gaze, smiled and nodded.

  “I don’t know,” another board member said. “Given the current administration, I can hardly see the governments of both the U.S. and Ecuador not looking into the wholesale pillaging of the rainforest.”

  Mr. Ravidos leaned forward. “Don’t concern yourself with the U.S.—they’ve got enough problems on their plate to be worrying about this. As long as the oil keeps flowing, they’ll guzzle it and keep demanding more. As for the Ecuadorian government, we’ve made sure that everything has been taken care of on that end, right, Mr. Roldos?”

  “That is correct. The contracts have been signed and are on file at the Carondelet Palace as I speak. For all intents and purposes, Paracor Security has the legal right to exploit the land as we see fit, granted to us by the sovereign nation of Ecuador. Any claim to the contrary can be tied up in the courts down here for years, gentlemen.”

  Hachtman nodded, the man’s line of reasoning paralleling his own. He didn’t care what the company did with this tract of wilderness, as long as they made enough money off it to guarantee him a big promotion and private office back in the States.

  “Mr. Ravidos, I have serious reservations about proceeding with this project.” The new speaker was one of the younger board members with styled, black hair who always wore expensive suits. Hachtman had pegged him as a relative of one of the major shareholders, so he was surprised to see him taking this adversarial stand. “I’ve reviewed all of these reports, and I feel there is too much inherent risk involved in parceling these rights to third parties for exploitation. If it is found out that Paracor owns the holding company that controls the rights companies have leased and that we’re supplying security for, at the least we’d be charged with conflict of interest and possible price-fixing.”

  Mr. Ravidos didn’t even acknowledge his words with a glance. “You let me worry about those details. In the twenty-first century, gentlemen, good business is where you find it—and where you make it. We’ve invested a great deal of money, time and effort into creating this operation, and it has to produce tangible results, period. Unless someone has a real reason why we should suspend this operation, instead of a weak stomach—” he glared at the young board member, who looked away in embarrassment “—then it will continue as scheduled. Thank you for your time, Mr. Roldos, Mr. Hachtman.”

  “You’re welcome, Chairman, and thank you.” Hachtman kept his eyes on Mr. Ravidos and wasn’t surprised to see the man move his hand back and forth on the polished tabletop, the gesture clear. Eliminate all potential witnesses. His acknowledging nod was barely perceptible, but the other man replied with a minute nod of his own. “Gentlemen, if you’ll excuse me, I have much to do here.”

  Breaking the connection, Hachtman brought up an audio file on his computer that the mercs’ comm man had sent him. He listened to the female voice, a Nancy Kelleson of something called SARE, trying to raise Major Medina, saying that there had been a terrible accident at one of the local villages.

  Hachtman quickly dialed another number, voice-only this time. “Good afternoon, Mr. Gamboa, how are you? This is Mr. Hachtman… .Yes, of Paracor Security… .I’m well, thank you… .I’m afraid that I am calling with some unfortunate news regarding the village on the edge of the border with Colombia… .Yes, you’ve just heard? Well it seems that some of the local volunteers from that relief group, the South American Relief Effort, were poking around the area…it seems that they were there for a particular reason. I cannot be sure if it was some kind of insurrection, but it wouldn’t be the first time foreigners had entered the country to stir up trouble… .How? One of my security personnel had heard about the incident and had traveled there to investigate, to make sure we were not in danger… .Yes, when he arrived, he saw them in the area… .I wouldn’t care to speculate what they might have been doing there, but I wanted to pass this on so you could follow up if necessary…I’m afraid I don’t know if they are still in that other village nearby, but I assume that the city of Nueva Loja will have that information… .If you wouldn’t mind, I’d like to be informed so we can also be on our guard… .Yes, I will certainly let you know if we see any unusual behavior… .Thank you, Mr. Gamboa, I’ll be in touch.”

  Hanging up, he pressed a speed-dial num
ber and the person on the other end answered on the first ring. “Kapleron? I have another task for you and your men. I’m sending you the coordinates of that village where the volunteers are located… .Yes, I’ve sent the army over to ‘collect’ them. It seems the SARE people have been up to a lot more than just helping the local villages… .That’s right, you’re to go there and make sure the volunteers never make it out alive. If the army takes care of them, fine, otherwise, you handle it… .Good, contact me when you’re finished.”

  Hachtman leaned back in his chair, comfortable with the results of his misdirection, if not completely satisfied. While he wasn’t sure the army could react properly to the “revelation” that the volunteers might be behind the massacre at the village, the inference had been planted and it was up to them to respond. The long history of agents provocateurs in the region, combined with the disappearances his company was behind, almost guaranteed that the volunteers would be handled less than politely. Tempers would flare, and someone was bound to provoke an incident. And if they didn’t, Kapleron and his men would certainly be happy to finish the job.

  A drop of cold, smelly water plopped from the ceiling onto Hachtman’s forehead. And the sooner they do, the sooner I can get out of here and back to civilization, he thought.

  16

  Kelleson sat on her bed in her hut, trying to make sense out of everything that had happened. They had gotten back to the village by nightfall, and she had sworn the students to secrecy, not wanting news of the slaughter to get out and panic the rest of the village.

  Unfortunately, that left her with the unenviable job of carrying the burden of what she’d seen by herself. She couldn’t stop wondering what had happened in that village. Who would be behind such a travesty? And she had no idea what was up with Morgan and Cooper. One moment they were sniping at each other, the next working together as though they were soldiers in the same unit. There was some kind of unspoken understanding between them, and she was going to find out what it was.

  Across from her, Nampa gobbled the last of his stew that one of the students had brought. Kelleson knew she should eat, but had only managed to choke down a few bites before giving the rest of hers to the hungry boy.

  A knock on the door frame broke her reverie, and she glanced up to see Cooper in the doorway, holding a bottle of water. “Hey.”

  “Hi, come on in.”

  “Thanks.” He offered her the bottle, nodding at the boy, who regarded them both with wide eyes. “I wasn’t sure if you had anything left to drink in here—he seemed like he’d been stuck in that hut for days.”

  “Right, thanks.” Kelleson opened the cap and took a quick swallow, not wanting to be impolite. She held it out to Nampa, who grabbed it and drained half of it in large swallows. “So, what now, Matt?”

  “The best thing to do would be to get some rest, and we’ll talk to the authorities tomorrow morning. Etienne’s still having trouble raising them. I don’t know if its due to sunspots interfering with the transmissions, or just the jungle itself, but we’ll inform them as soon as we can, even if we have to go see them ourselves.”

  “All right…” A frown crossed Kelleson’s face as a thought just struck her. “Matt, this is going to sound crazy, but…you don’t think Morgan’s somehow involved in what went on there, do you? I mean, there’s something not right about him, but I can’t put my finger on it.”

  The black-haired man shook his head. “No—his reaction to what he saw was as real as yours or mine was.”

  Kelleson could vouch for herself, but regarding the other two men, she wasn’t so sure. Getting up, she walked over to him. “I appreciate you handling the situation so well back there. I know this is a dangerous place, but that sort of thing certainly isn’t something you see every day.” She placed her hand on his chest, feeling him breathe underneath her fingertips. “I just wanted to say I’m glad you’re here.”

  The big American placed his hand over hers, and for a moment their eyes met and locked. Kelleson gazed up at him, lips slightly apart, just waiting. He bent tentatively, but just before his mouth touched hers, a shout from outside made his head snap up and look back at the door.

  “Hey, Cooper, what’s taking so long in there?”

  A grimace flashed across his lean, handsome features. “That guy has the worst way of interrupting just about everything.” Realizing she was still there and listening, he said. “Sorry, I didn’t mean—”

  “That’s all right, go see what he wants. Perhaps later you can stop by and we can talk.” Kelleson smiled and increased her pressure on his chest, moving him toward the door. “Get going, otherwise he’ll think we’re up to no good in here.”

  “I’ll be back to check on you both later.” With that he turned and headed outside. Kelleson turned back to see Nampa polish off the bottle of water. His head lolled back and forth in the hammock, and she walked over to catch him just before he slumped over, unconscious. She checked his pulse, which was slow, but strong and steady.

  Kelleson had been right—he’d drugged the water. She had detected a slight aftertaste in that first sip, even above the chlorine, and had kept her tongue over the opening when she had pretended to drink more.

  She wasn’t worried about Nampa. Even though the tranquilizer was probably a strong dose, he’d also just eaten a large meal, so it would affect him more slowly, as most of his blood would be aiding his digestion. Besides, after the horrors he’d seen, an uninterrupted night’s sleep was probably the best thing for him right now, she thought. Plus, it got him out of the way so that she could pursue her own agenda.

  Creeping over to the doorway, she leaned out just far enough to see Morgan and the supposed journalist sitting near the fire, their faces half-lit by the flickering orange-gold flames. Morgan held a stainless-steel flask out to the other man, who took it and had a quick drink, then handed it back. “That’s not modified, too, is it?”

  “Nope—would be a damn shame to adulterate good Scotch whisky like that.” Morgan jerked a thumb over at the second tent in the clearing. “I took care of Etienne, he’s sound asleep in there. How’d it go with Nancy?”

  Cooper glanced over his shoulder, making her duck out of sight. “No problem. She’ll be out in a minute or two, so keep your voice down for the time being.” He took a deep breath, then let it out while staring into the flames. “Some mess we’ve gotten into here, isn’t it?”

  “Damn right. I was supposed to come over here to make sure the oil company my bosses work with is safe and sound, not get mixed up in some kind of crazy massacre. How ’bout you? I mean, what—you’re with the Agency, right? You got the moves.”

  “You’re good. Yeah, we’ll call it the Agency. It’s funny—your mission and mine aren’t that far apart. I got assigned down here to make sure the locals weren’t messing anything up—and now it seems that’s exactly what they’re doing.” With a grin, he reached for the proffered flask again. “Isn’t this area a bit far away from the oil fields?”

  Morgan shrugged. “Supposedly you and I are sitting on one of the largest untapped oil reserves in the world. The company I’m working for was supposed to already have geologists and engineers surveying for test drilling sites, but the board of directors wanted to make sure the area was absolutely safe. Apparently one of them saw that Tip of the Spear documentary about those missionaries getting themselves killed in the sixties and thinks the same thing could happen again down here—only to oil workers whose families will sue the company. That’s why I’m out here getting eaten alive with the likes of you instead of luxuriating in the two-star hotel back at Neuva Loja.”

  Cooper grinned again. “Well, before you head back to the lap of luxury, we should at least try to figure out what the hell is going on. I can’t help feeling the hunters I ran into the first night I was here are connected to what happened at the village, but I’m n
ot sure how.”

  “Oh, was that during your ‘morning constitutional’?”

  “Yeah, I didn’t think I’d fooled you with that excuse. I was retrieving something that had been delivered for me, and ran into a hunting party—at night. The strange thing was, they were armed with dart rifles, as if they wanted to capture whatever animal they were hunting alive. I took one out and evac’d before the others discovered him.”

  Morgan held out both hands, as if weighing the evidence. “Okay, big-game hunters in the jungle in one hand and a slaughtered village in the other. I’m not really connecting the dots.”

  Cooper grimaced. “I said I didn’t know how they were connected—I just think they somehow are. The problem is that they’re out there somewhere, in several thousand square miles of jungle, and at the moment, I don’t have a clue who they are or where they might be. I’d planned to gain the villagers’ trust, then question them about what they might have seen recently. What we found this morning, however, accelerates my timetable to immediately. If someone’s running around slaughtering villagers, then they gotta be stopped.”

  Morgan stared into the flickering fire. “Like you said, whoever’s messing around here has to be stopped, but first you gotta know where to look.”

  “Yeah, I got some people working on that angle right now. Should have some idea where to begin pretty soon.”

  “Good, ’cause I want in if you go after them. Before we’d stumbled upon the massacre, I was going to ask Nancy if she’d heard anything about any missing people, since she’d been here longer than either of us. What do you think about our fearless leader?”

  Kelleson leaned out a bit further, as curious about Cooper’s answer as Morgan no doubt was.

  “It seems our Nancy Kelleson has a rather checkered past. I thought the name sounded familiar, and when my superiors downloaded her file, I found out why. It seems she’d left England four years ago after a scandal involving an inappropriate relationship she’d had with a college student at Winchester when she was a teacher’s aide. Although nothing was ever proven, she was fired and left the country nine months later. Apparently we now know where she ended up.”